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Page 59
"And to collect the taxes to pay for them and to pay for his wars in France," replied Alinor.
"What of that? To whom would you prefer to pay? To Philip's son Louis?" Ian asked coldly. Frustration made Alinor stamp her foot, and Ian laughed. "Well?" he insisted. "Who else is there? The sons of Stephen of Blois' daughters?"
"There is Salisbury," Alinor said softly.
To her surprise, Ian did not roar a protest or tell her to hold her tongue. He shrugged and sighed. "Who has not thought of it? It is hopeless. Salisbury would not agree. He has been sounded. Old King Henry did his work well on Salisbury. The idea that he cannot be king is bred deep into the bone. Do not shake your head at me, I know him, and you do not. More important even than thatonce you open that door, on whom can you close it? Do not the bastards of the first Henry have even better claim? Do you not see that a dozen 'kings' would spring up? John may be a running sore, but to overset him would bring on a plague."
He was right, and Alinor knew it. "Then what will you do to cage the wolf?" she asked tartly, reverting to her original question.
"You know that the trouble has become much worse since Hubert Walter died last year. Thus, the first step is a man as great as Walter to be Archbishop of Canterbury, a man who can stand against John if need be."
Alinor had been prepared for some vague generality or some hopeful, illusory nonsense. This flat, practical statement woke an instant response in her. "I thought the king had already chosen that ass-licker Gray to be archbishop. How can another be appointed? Who?" she asked eagerly.
Ian freed his hands gently and lay down again. "Finish with me, Alinor," he suggested, "while I tell

 
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